DEATH BOUTIQUE, Poetry by Lionel Walfish

 Genre: Comical Farce
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Stepping on the lower stones that led to hallways bare, the master of the shop appeared, and beckoned to a chair. “We’ve got a great array to choose from sir”, he flipped a tiny switch. “There are those outside, who think that this is only for the rich.” The room went dark, a screen lit up, and he began to ‘pitch’. “The Pyramids look good to-day. Locked in a tomb is a very fine way! The Tour Eiffel, a man once fell, his skull did crack on landing. On the bateaux Mouche, a gentle push, saw Madam’s lungs expanding.” “Niagara Falls, on a gray windy day, a little raft will do ya . Row to the ledge, just over the edge, while singing Hallelujah. From The Empire State, observation is great, and we’ll ship you over for free. You go to the top, pass the sign that says ‘stop’, and over you go, one, two, three. In India, there is a hall, The Tajmah, and it’s very tall. We’ll bring you to the highest tower, and you’ll be gone within the hour. In London town, you know the bridge; it runs across the Thames. We’ll hold you down, I’m sure you’ll drown, ensnared in lily stems. We’ll take you to the northern wilds, a place you’ve dreamed of as a child. And just to show you that we care, you’ll be eaten by a polar bear. A small deposit, right now will do. No fuss, no muss, we’ll see it through. Ten thousand Francs, right now will do. A special price, and just for you ! ”

 

 

 

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